


Sweeter Than Afternoon Biscuits

by WilliTSpears (Birdgirl)



Series: Sweeter [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Bad Cooking, Blow Jobs, Cooking, First Time, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Smut, porn with a little plot, sorry if i ruin your childhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdgirl/pseuds/WilliTSpears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard's having some trouble with cooking (nothing new), but this time, Finny decides to help him out.<br/>Things get a bit messy *evil grin*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweeter Than Afternoon Biscuits

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot I wrote for a friend, and it's been a LONG time coming.  
> I am really, really sorry it took so long, man (you know who you are).  
> Anyway, enjoy this!  
> 

Finny came sure-footedly into the kitchen of the Phantomhive manor, whistling as he easily carried an enormous bag of flour, looking as affected by the weight as if he had been carrying a loaf of bread. Bardroy cook was busy attempting to make the young master's midevening tea biscuits on the kitchen counter. Really, though, it looked more like a junk pile than a plate of food.

 

Finny normally left Bard to his work, knowing that if (and when, his mind admitted) Bardroy messed up, Sebastian would swoop in and fix it all at an inhuman speed. He was never able to comprehend how the mysterious butler did it, but was willing to be put a bit in the dark, considering as the man had once saved his life.

 

But back to Bard. The poor man had tried- he really, really did, just like the rest of the servants at Phantomhive manor. However, no matter the job, there was always smashing, crashing, clashing and other "-ashing" words, and Sebastian would have to ratify things himself. So, this time, when the older man whipped out his handy-dandy blowtorch, supposedly to "cook 'em faster" (where did he even keep that thing, anyways?), Finny was ready to stop him.

 

"Mister Bard! Please, stop, you'll burn them!" He ran over, gently placing his small hand over Bard's stronger, more calloused one. The man raised an eyebrow questioningly, to which Finny went a bit red, much to his own surprise. Luckily, Bard moved the conversation along.

 

"But this way, I won' be spendin' all my precious time waitin' for 'em in the oven. They get done real quick this way, see?" Before Finny could protest again, the poor dough was charred to a crisp.

 

He sighed as Bard surveyed the damage, coughing at the amount of smoke and staring at the black mess as if he was genuinely surprised that his method had failed. Gently removing the blowtorch from Bard's reach, Finny smiled up at him in what he hoped was a supportive way, determined to help him try again. They'd show Sebastian that they didn't need his help all the time, right?

 

After explaining to Bard his plan (which was really just to start over and bake them right), the two set out to make the best afternoon tea biscuits the young master had ever had.

 

/

 

After about ten minutes of "cooking", things were a bit more than scattered. Dough, eggs, sugar, flour, and all the other ingredients seemed to be, well, everywhere but the mixing bowl. This may have had to do with Finny's insistence on doing the mixing, paired with the innocent phrase "Oops! Guess I didn't know my own strength! Sorry mister Bard!"

 

Actually, there was no other explanation, really. That's exactly what happened.

 

But hey, at least they were having fun. Finny had egg in his hair and batter all over his clothes. Bard had flour caught in his stubble, and a little bit of sugar on his cheek… 

Finny blushed again, looking away and mentally berating himself. He couldn't decide whether it was more wrong that Bard was such an attractive man, (tall, broad-shouldered, muscled and strong without any genetically modified strengths) or if it was more wrong for him to think so. His laugh was hearty and low when he really got going, which was the way it was right now. At least this damage was less… burnt.

 

For now, Finny tried hard to manage his expression and just have fun. It didn't help that he started noticing all the little things, though, as time went on. The muscles in Bard's arms flexing as he protectively stole the batter back away from him, struggling a bit more with its consistency because of noted lack of "super powers", but looking astonishingly good doing it all the same. The strong grip as he held the blowtorch again, claiming that he'd only cook them a little this time and they could do the rest in the oven (really, though, Finny was having none of that). And, even… though he scarcely dared to admit it, the almost… tantilizing way bard swiped the sugar off his chin with a flick of his tongue.

 

The biscuits managed to get into the stove, however. At least they had that in their favor, as much as Bard whined for it.

 

"Now, you're sure we can't jus' speed it up a little… you know how Sebastian an' the young master like things gettin' done fast-" Finny rolled his eyes, telling him that no, we can't speed it up. They only cook for about 15 minutes anyways, and it was scarcely 4pm. Bard finally resigned to that, hiding the blowtorch mysteriously again, as if it had never been.

 

They sat and talked for the few minutes it was in the oven, but it was just about impossible for Finny to get rid of that small bit of red coloring his cheeks.

 

/

 

Bard didn't like cooking. He'd been all up for the challenge of it, but really, that wasn't his main job. Sebastian had hired him for his skills as a soldier, and getting a new hobby was just a perk of it. He did try hard, though, at Finny's insistence. That and, though he'd never admit it aloud, he quite… admired the boy. For the life of him, he couldn't figure why thin stick arms like that could be so incredibly strong, but for some reason, that was almost… exciting, in and of itself.

 

He had to blink himself out of staring when Finny bent down to finally take the biscuits out of the oven, smiling happily as he surveyed the flaky, soft crust. "Surely, Young master can't possibly eat all 16 of these, can he? It's just to be a midevening snack, really…" he justified, licking his lips before taking one out of its pan and taking a bite.

 

Bard's eyes widened for a second when Finny moaned at the taste of the biscuit, something that would normally have been innocent if it didn't sound so… well. He gulped, looking away for a moment and willing his body to behave, at least until he was safely back in his quarters.

 

He cleared his throat as Finny made another exaggerated moan of approval, crossing his legs with his arms over his chest and trying to keep calm. "Are they really, er, that good?" he questioned, hesitantly picking up a biscuit and drawing it up to his face. He stared at the slowly dripping honey, licking it off before the sticky stuff hit his hand. He heard Finny nearly choke behind him.

 

"A-are you okay, Finny?" he faced the boy, who nodded vigorously and looked to the floor, face a… well, a very cute shade of red, if Bard were to admit it to himself. He seemed okay, so Bard let it go, but still didn't look from where Finny was now nibbling at his biscuit less enthusiastically, and, oh, there was still a smidge of batter on his cheek, there. He leaned forward, meaning just to swipe it off with his finger, laugh it off and such. But somehow he was too close, too quickly, and his tongue swiped across the batter instead, sweet biscuit taste paired with something… even better. He barely pulled away.

 

Finny lit up like a rose with a blush that threatened to reach his ears, jolting at the touch. He looked over to Bard, flustered and bug-eyed. "M-mister Bard! W-what…" oh. God. That was just too cute a look, really. It was practically a crime, when Finny bit his lip like that, small hands playing with and stretching down the fabric of his shirt. If he didn't get away now, he was probably going to do something stupi-

 

Too late.

 

/

 

If they weren't large before, Finny's eyes still widened farther at the lick, blushing hard and desperately trying to stay under control, even as Bard kept just centimeters away from his face. When it all went downhill, really, was the moment Bard leaned closer, eyes closing briefly as he pressed his lips onto Finny's. He jolted again, mind racing between no, no, stop this isn't… oh, my, yes.

 

His fluttered shut after that, and he pressed back into it, letting out a bit of an undignified squeak as Bard's hot breath played into his. He tasted like biscuits and sugar and… something undeniably Bard. A large, strong hand reached around to the back of his head, pulling him closer as the other touched down on the small of his back. His own arms clasped one another over Bard's shoulder and behind his head. Bard's tongue made itself known again, slipping its way inside the smaller boy's mouth and he moaned, high pitched and then surprised as he found himself being lifted onto the counter.

 

They pulled back for a moment, breathing heavily. Finny's face was heated to its maximum capacity, and excelled it when he saw the darkened pupils in Bard's eyes. But, there was also hesitance. Bard looked at him, biting his lip hard before looking away, one hand scratching the back of his head nervously.

 

"S-sorry, Finny. Dun know what came over me-" again, Finny was having none of this. Not… not now, not now they'd just got started.

 

He felt a bit guilty, using his strength like this, but he pulled Bard back by the one arm still in the vicinity of the counter, stretching his neck up and kissing him again. This time it was Bard's turn to look surprised, but now at least, they were finally on the right track.

 

Their breaths intermingled again, Finny breathing in Bard and Bard taking Finny's breath away. The boy gripped Bard's hair when the man put a hand on his thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb before feeling his way around Finny's stomach, untucking the shirt from his trousers and feeling his hips with beautifully calloused fingers. Finny whined in his grasp, kissing back insistently and encouragingly, as well as he could with his limited experience.

 

Bard complied, undoing the buttons of his shirt and at the top of the trousers and sliding the latter down and off, hand slowly making its way down to Finny's calf and slowly back up to his thigh again. There was a small tent in Finny's underwear, making his own more noticeable even through the cook's smock he wore. Finny clasped his legs together and squirmed, small noises escalating when Bard broke the kiss and centered his mouth's affections on the gardener's neck, causing Finny's hands to tighten in his hair even as he bit his lip and tried not to make too much noise.

 

"M-mister Bard-" he started, and Bard broke away from his neck to nip at his ear, voice husky as he whispered, "No need for mister here, boy…" Finny shivered, nodding vigorously.

 

He was just too good to resist, really. A few more minutes of teasing, and he was squirming in such a way that his hips came in contact with Bard's, and they both gasped. Bard, for his part, regained control more quickly, not resisting anymore as he took his hand from Finny's thigh and trailed inward, slipping into Finny's briefs and pulling a strangled little moan from the boy as his fingers laced around Finny's erection.

 

This was going… faster than either of them had anticipated. But, you don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Bard reasoned with the little sense he had left.

 

His thumb brushed the very tip of it as he started a slow, smooth stroking motion. The strangled, feverish sounds coming out of Finny's mouth at this point were delicious, changing from panting to whining to little, hitched moans depending on how he moved his hand. He could tell, they both wanted more.

 

He broke off from Finny's throat, kissing his way down the small chest and keeping his hand going at a constant rhythm. The boy arched at Bard's touch, breath catching when he realized the direction Bard was heading. He bit his lip when Bard stopped at his stomach, knees on the floor. He looked up at Finny, who squirmed a bit under his stare, and winked, slipping his hand lower around Finny's base and licking a quick stripe on the tip.

 

The boy keened, gasping in surprise. "B-bard, what are you…" but he was reduced to noises again as Bard licked a longer stripe, grinning suggestively. "Just doin' a bit of a taste test." he slurred in his American Southern accent, then quit talking and fully wrapped his lips around the tip. Finny gasped and moaned beautifully, chin tipping up as his eyes rolled into his head.

 

Bard dipped his head low, eliciting a strangled gasp as he felt small hands grip his hair, thankfully not at full strength. He started bobbing smoothly, tip to base. Finny couldn't do much more than babble, now, toes curling in his boots. Somewhere along the way, his hat had dropped to the floor, and his hair had fallen in his face. Who knew where the hairpins went, but it was safe to say that wasn't either of their primary concerns. Finny's at the moment was not to completely lose all coherent thought at just the feelings Bard was giving him. It wasn't going so well.

 

"Bard… B-Bard, I… you have to… stop, I can't… Bard!"

 

Bard just bobbed faster, unable to talk as he sucked in his cheeks in and went all out. If he could, he would have smirked, and as it was he was relishing the uncontrolled twitches and sounds coming from the boy above him, slowly climbing in frequency. Bard new he was almost done, so he dove down once more, sucking and licking and going all-out for that last stretch. There was a loud, almost surprised gasp above him as Finny arched, hands still in Bard's hair as he came.

 

Bard let go of Finny and used a nearby kitchen rag to wipe of his lips, immediately going back to the little gardener and holding him up. Finny went limp in his arms, spent and milling around in the afterglow, but managed to wrap his own tiny (in comparison) arms and legs around Bard's waist. About a minute went by where they just held each other, Bard peppering little kisses on Finny's cheeks and chin.

 

Finny scooted closer to the bigger man, so he could kiss back, and send small, breathless thank-yous into his ear if he craned his neck a little. When they were chest-to-chest, though, he felt a bit of a bulge down below, and pulled away, embarrassed.

 

"I-I'm so sorry, Bard! I didn't even… you're still…" Bard interrupted him with a kiss, slow and sweet, his hand coming up to stroke the boy's cheek.

 

"M'fine. You don't have to worry about ol' me." Bard smiled his cheeky grin, the one where chewing on a piece of hay would complete the picture. The little beast in his trousers could wait for now- honestly, he was having much more fun cuddling and coddling and kissing the shorter blonde.

 

Finny was having fun with it, too, smiling and laughing a little and kissing back. Suddenly he straightened, looking curiously up at Bard.

 

"So, does this mean we're…"

 

Bard smiles. "We're whatever you want to be, Finny boy."

 

Finny beams, and really, now that they've started, they can't stop kissing, and hugging, and snuggling and doing little dorky things. Not that either of them mind.

 

But cleaning up later's going to be a bitch.


End file.
